Illinois, Chicago Suburb, forr National Guard training base, now the first temporary detention facility of xico, Illinois.
Here are detained "high-risk individuals" identified after border conflicts, those suspected of being associated with the "Phoenix Society," and so local gang leaders who took advantage of the chaos. In total, about one hundred and ten people.
Conditions are crude, and the atmosphere is oppressive.
Late at night, the spotlight beam of the sentry post swept across the barbed wire fence, casting moving spots of light on the weeds and concrete ground.
The xican soldier on the watchtower, holding a rifle, felt his eyelids drooping. Weeks of high-pressure vigilance had left everyone exhausted.
Two in the morning, the ti when people are most drowsy.
Outside the detention facility, in the shadow of an abandoned farm equipnt warehouse about three hundred ters from the barbed wire, a dozen black shadows silently crawled into position.
They were dressed in dark civilian clothes, with faces painted with camouflage, well-equipped, and their movents clean and efficient, clearly veterans.
The leader observed the layout of the detention facility and the routine of the sentries through night vision goggles.
"Group A, deal with the outer sentry tower and patrol team. Group B, blast the barbed wire to create frontal chaos. Group C, follow to infiltrate from the side drainage ditch. Rember, act swiftly, and after rescuing the people, retreat quickly."
A few slight confirmations ca through the headset.
"For true order." The leader's voice was icy.
"For true order," everyone softly repeated.
Three minutes later, Group A's sniper pulled the trigger.
The head of the dozing soldier on the watchtower exploded like a waterlon, blood and brain matter splattering against the spotlight glass, the beam instantly tinted with an eerie pink.
Almost simultaneously, patrolling soldiers in two other directions were also taken down by crossbow bolts or silenced pistols.
"Enemy attack—!" The piercing alarm finally sounded, but it was already too late.
Group B used plastic explosives to blast two large holes in the barbed wire, flas soaring into the night as the loud explosion echoed.
They raised their automatic weapons, wildly shooting towards the detention facility barracks and guard room, bullets sparking against brick walls, the sound of shattering glass incessant.
So xican soldiers who had just gotten out of bed were knocked down before they could find cover.
The intense suppression of frontal fire drew the attention of most of the remaining guards.
Group C's six mbers advanced along the pre-scouted drainage ditch, easily circumventing to the side and rear of the detention facility. The defense here was relatively weak, with only a single fixed sentry post. The soldier in the post was fixated on the explosion and firefight at the front, and was swiftly taken down from behind by a C Group mber's dagger slicing his throat.
The leader kicked open the flimsy door of warehouse number 3.
Inside were more than twenty people, including John from Stone Bridge Town and two attackers suspected of being "Phoenix Society" ard personnel captured and wounded in the border conflict.
The prisoners were startled awake, staring in terror at the fully ard ominous figures at the door.
"Get up! Co with us!" the leader growled, signaling his n to unlock the shackles.
John recognized a subtle mark on the intruders' gear, the one shown to him by those who were supposed to et him! Hope ignited instantly, and he moved to get up excitedly.
Just then, the detention facility's ergency broadcast harshly blared, a static-laden voice spreading to every corner:
"Rats, you finally couldn't hold back."
The words stunned everyone for a mont, then the face of the leading assailant changed drastically, "No, it's an ambush!"
Outside the warehouse, in the frontal firefight area.
The xican defenders, previously seeming too pinned down to lift their heads, suddenly unleashed additional firepower from various unexpected corners. Pre-positioned machine gun nests, recoilless rifles hidden behind ruins, and even remote-controlled weapon stations rising from underground bunkers instantaneously ford a crossfire death net.
The seven or eight attackers from Group B, who were frantically shooting to sow chaos, were shredded into pieces in an instant by the tal storm, limbs and weapon parts scattering amidst the explosive flas.
"We are trapped! Retreat!" The sole survivor from Group B barely got out half a sentence into the headset before a mortar round hit directly, turning them and their equipnt into a charred mix of blood mist.
On the flank, Group C's leader had just dragged John out of the warehouse door when he heard the screams of his companions at the front and the sudden onslaught of overwhelmingly unmatched retaliatory fire. He knew things had turned for the worst, but the mission had to be completed.
"Quick! Back through the original route..."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a dozen high-power spotlights simultaneously illuminated from the warehouse roof and the surrounding tall walls, pinning Group C and the prisoners they had just rescued in the center of the open space, leaving nowhere to escape. The glaring light forced them to squint against the brightness.
"Put down your weapons, kneel and surrender."
"Fuck you!" The leader reacted incredibly quickly, yanking John in front of him as a human shield, blindly firing his gun towards the spotlights.
"Thump thump thump..."
The sound of a silencer-equipped precision shooter rifle was soft yet lethal. A mber of Group C, who had just taken cover behind an abandoned truck, had the exposed half of his head blown apart.
Tsk tsk tsk, I wonder what brain matter tastes like, sweet or salty?
The leader was drenched in cold sweat, knowing it was all over.
Yet he refused to accept defeat, screaming into the headset: "Detonate! Detonate the prep explosives! Blow this place sky high!"
The low-yield explosives preset at several crucial support points within the detention facility were their final cleansing ans, intended to completely destroy evidence and create maximum chaos.
However, the headset was only filled with the static crackling.
The expected chain of explosions never occurred.
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